


I might like to stop and think of a different life, but I'd rather lay and rejoice with you, darling

by Colourspaz



Category: Mighty Ducks (Movies)
Genre: ;), Alternate Universe - Magic, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Magic, Minor Violence, Shapeshifting, also this was never beta'd, oh! and pining!, so bear with me throuch exactly 12690 words of utter and total incoherence, there's lots of pining, this is a pretyy fuckin wild ride okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-21
Updated: 2019-06-21
Packaged: 2020-05-16 04:31:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 12,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19310665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Colourspaz/pseuds/Colourspaz
Summary: I took this Tumblr prompt (From tumblr user siniristiriita) and promptly went nuts:The most wanted woman in town has announced that she'll only marry the one who can open her front door with the key around her cat's neck. Many men try to hunt the cat down, chase and trap it, but to no avail, the cat is simply too quick, smart, and lever, and always, finds a way to evade and avoid them.You are the first one to figure out the obvious: Do not chase the cat. The cas is befriendable. Get the cat to trust you, to genuinely enjoy your company, and you can hang out with the cat. You may eventually be allowed to touch the cat. The cat will freely let you take the key.Secondary plot twist: The woman is a shapeshifter. She is the cat.So, uh. Yep. Have fun, I hope this is actually readable.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bashbabe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bashbabe/gifts).



> A few things to keep in mind throughought:  
> All of the Ducks are a few years over 20 (For the sake of the story)  
> It takes place in England I guess??  
> The language that Kenny and Dean speak is Portuguese and Fulton speaks French
> 
> Have fun!!

“Have you heard the announcement?” 

Fulton doesn't look up from his bow until the arrow lands in the target, and then he turns to Charlie. 

“No. What announcement?”

“You know that one visiting prince? Dean Portman?” 

Fulton scowls. “I know he’s an asshole.” 

Charlie laughs and flops down on a crate. “Well, I’m pretty sure you're the only one who thinks that.”

Fulton raises an eyebrow. 

“Apparently, he's gotten so many offers of marriage that a contest has been made.” 

Fulton laughs. “A contest of what? Swordfighting?”

Charlie shakes his head. “It's a really weird one. Apparently, he has a pet cat, and the cat has they key to his private rooms. Whoever catches the cat and gets the key can have his hand, as long as they’re 18 or older.” 

“Jeez. Has anyone gotten it?” 

Again, Charlie shakes his head. “The closest anyone’s gotten is like...20 feet away. Apparently it’s impossible to catch. Julie’s been trying, along with more than half of the girls in the kingdom.” 

“Julie’s trying?” 

Charlie nods. “Her parents are getting too close to finding about her and Linda. Speaking of, I have to take Linda on a fake-date tonight, and I should probably go soon.” He stands up. "Are you thinking of trying?" 

"No." 

"Why not ? It's not like you're too young, and besides, it could help you get out of the house since that job you got definitely won't get you out for a while." Charlie points out. 

"I'm not going to fucking get married to a guy whom I don't know just on the off chance that it'd get me out of the house." Fulton says, scowling. 

"Just a suggestion." Charlie says, raising his hands defensively. "I'll see you later, man." 

Fulton watches until he exits the alley and turns the corner, then draws another arrow and nocks it in his bow, returning to his usual routine of shooting arrow after arrow.

He tries to keep his thoughts off of the contest, but try as he might, his thoughts keep returning to the Prince. He's seen him a few times, at public decrees and the public parks, surprisingly enough. He's heard stories of the Prince's generosity, too. Giving multiple gold coins to beggars on the street, and passing out bread to the homeless. 

Eventually, he's too tired to think about the Prince anymore and his fingers are bleeding and numb and it’s too dark to see the target. 

 

~

“Dean, you really couldn’t come up with something better than this?” 

Queen Emily had given her son permission to host a contest for his hand, but she had expected something more...traditional. 

“And did you _have_ to add that note at the end about it being open to girls and boys?” 

Dean just shrugs. “I don’t see why I shouldn’t have.” 

The queen purses her lips and continues eating breakfast, a sign that the conversation was over. 

His younger sister Sofia pipes up. “Does anyone know what your kitty-cat looks like?” 

“No, but they should know what the key looks like. Besides, I’m in no rush.” He answers, grinning. His mom gives him a light slap on the wrist for his answer. 

“Mooomm!” 

“Dean, you know that you need to find a wife soon! You’re going to be crowned king soon and after your father, I just…” 

Dean places a hand on his mom’s shoulder. “Hey, I’m sorry, Mom. If nobody wins within three months, I’ll close the contest and find someone myself. So long as she wants to, that is.” He says. 

His mom just nods and they finish the meal in silence. He gets up and kisses her on the top of the head, and rumples his sister’s hair. 

“I’m heading out for the day.” 

Once he’s in a private alley just outside the castle and he’s sure nobody is watching, he ties the key around his neck and shifts. Anyone looking at the alley would simply see a cat walking out, and realize too late that it was the prince’s cat.


	2. Chapter 2

“-and stay out all night for all I fuckin’ care!!” 

The door slams behind him, and he jumps down to the ground, limping slightly. It’s too late to head to Charlie’s, or anyone else’s. It’s not safe to be put on the main streets, so he heads for the alley, limping and hoping that his hair hides his black eye. 

He tries to practice his marksmanship, but he can’t even pull the string back without his shoulder hurting like crazy. Whatever his dad did, it’s probably going to hurt for a while. So he puts his bow and quiver back into their hiding place and tucks himself in between to crates in an attempt to hide and gets some sleep. 

It’s cold out, but he’s been locked out in worse conditions than this. 

He’s starting to doze off when he hears a ruckus at the entrance of the alley. He stays put, hoping it’s just a stray animal. 

The ruckus stops, and a cat slinks in front of him. It stares at him, almost as if it’s expecting him to do something. 

“I don’t have any food, cat.” He whispers. 

It keeps staring at him. 

“I don’t know what you want from me, cat. I don’t have any food, and I can’t take you home cause I’m not allowed home.” 

Why is he talking to a cat? 

The cat takes a few steps towards him, and he tentatively reaches out to pet it, but it jumps away and hops on top of a crate, over the fence, and it’s gone. He never even noticed the key around its neck. 

~

“Kenny, I’m telling you, I think I’m dead.” 

Dean is currently lying on his bed with his head over the edge, practically ranting to Kenny about the boy he saw last night. 

“You didn’t catch a name, did you?” Kenny asks. Dean shakes his head. 

“How would I have asked? I was a cat, dude.” 

Kenny shrugs. “Fair enough.”

“And I really want to do something for him...I don’t think he’s homeless, but…” he trails off, not wanting to make assumptions or state something he’s already said. 

“How about you head back to the alley today and take, like, a loaf of bread or something you can carry as a cat?” Kenny suggests. 

Dean sits up. “That’s...actually a really good idea.” He stands and runs out the door, yelling “Thanks Ken!” as he does. 

Kenny just sighs and smiles. 

~

Fulton doesn’t see the cat until he almost impales it. The arrow hits the target right next to the crate the cat is standing on. Somehow, the cat doesn’t even flinch. It turns its head to look at the arrow, blinks, looks back and hops down, padding over to Fulton. He kneels down and the cat drops the piece of bread it had in its mouth, nudging it towards him. 

At first, he’s confused, but the cat’s paw lands on his hand and tries to bring it near the bread, and he realizes that, for some reason, a cat has brought him bread. So he picks it up, dusts it off, and takes a bite. It’s really well made, and he wonders where the cat got it. Definitely not in the surrounding neighborhood. 

As he eats, he realizes how hungry he is, and that he hasn’t been home since last night. He should check in with his older sister, at least. He finishes the bread quickly and goes to scratch the cat behind the ears. It hisses slightly, and leaps back, and _that’s_ when he sees the collar with the key around its neck. 

“So you’re the prince’s cat, huh?” 

If a cat could look suspicious, this one does. 

“Don’t worry, I think the prince is a bit of an asshole. Don’t tell him I said that,” he says, smirking. The cat lies down on its side and begins cleaning itself, so Fulton stands back up and returns to shooting. 

The cat leaves, eventually, and Fulton heads home not soon after. 

~

“So, how’d it go?” Kenny asks as soon as Portman climbs through the window. He flops facedown on the bed and mumbles something Kenny can’t quite make out.

“Say again?”

“He thinks I’m an asshole, Kenny!” Portman cries, flipping onto his back. 

Kenny can’t help but laugh. 

“And, pray tell, how did you find this out?”

“He _finally_ figured out that I’m the ‘prince’s cat’, but the very next thing he says is ‘Don’t worry, I think the Prince is an asshole.’” 

Kenny just laughs harder. 

“Shut up, dude!” Portman says, throwing a pillow at Kenny. He has to laugh a little too, though. 

“Out of all the people in the kingdom clamoring for your hand, you just had to pick the one that doesn’t like you?” Kenny smirks. 

“Seriously, man, shut it. I’ve got a plan.” Portman insists. “Don’t worry, though, if he doesn’t warm up to me I’ll let it alone.”

“Fair enough.” 

~

“Wait, wait, wait...the prince’s cat-Prince _Dean Portman_ -came up to you, offered you bread, and you didn’t try to take the key?” 

“Hello to you too, Julie.” Fulton says tiredly. He responds to all the vague greetings sent his way from the rest of his friends, and takes a seat next to Charlie. 

“No, Fulton, seriously! Please tell me you at least tried to get the key?” Julie insists, leaning over the table. 

Fulton just shakes his head. 

“No. Because I think the Prince is an asshole.” 

Julie gasps in mock (?) offense. The rest of the table laughs, and the group falls into their usual pattern of teasing and laughing. It’s nice; it always is. But still, Fulton’s thoughts keep slipping back to the Prince. Maybe it’s because of Julie’s determination and the way she keeps bringing it up. Maybe it isn’t. 

(It isn’t.)


	3. Chapter 3

The cat comes back the next day, and the day after that, and the day after that until it’s a daily occurence. It stays for longer and longer every time, too. It’ll sometimes bring bread or sweetbuns or whatever it can carry, and Fulton goes from disliking it to tolerating it to looking forward to seeing it. 

It’s been a week since the contest was announced, and Fulton’s been kicked out of the house again. Luckily, he only has a black eye and a cut on his arm from his dad’s bottle this time. But when he’s walking out the door, his dad decides to throw the half-full bottle at him, and it shatters against his head. 

He makes it to the alley before he collapses. 

~

When he wakes up, he is most decidedly _not_ in the alley. He’s lying in a cot, and his head feels like it’s stuffed with cotton. He sits up with a groan to see two people talking in the corner, and by the looks of it, he’s in a healer’s house or an apothecary. There’s bottles and jars all over the wall, and the smell of herbs is almost too strong. 

He turns to his side to see the Prince’s cat sitting calmly on the bedside table, watching over him. It looks at him in a way he can’t quite decipher, and then hops off of the table and pads over to the smaller of the two figures, who kneels down and picks it up. 

“He’s awake.” The smaller one says, and the two walk over. As they come into his line of sight, Fulton realizes that one of them is Guy. So he must be at the Germaine’s house. Makes sense, Guy’s parents are healers. 

“Hey, Fulton, how’re you feeling?” Guy asks gently, and Fulton sighs. 

“You didn’t have to go to the trouble. I’d have been fine.” 

Guy frowns. 

“Stop that. You were bleeding pretty badly.” Guy says. Fulton opens his mouth to retort, but Guy raises an eyebrow and he closes it. 

“How’d you know, anyways?” Fulton asks. 

“Kenny.” Guy says, gesturing to the small boy next to him. Kenny raises a hand in a wave. “He came knocking at the door last night with that cat on his shoulders, asking to follow him, and quickly.” 

“How’d _you_ know, then?” Fulton asks Kenny. “Don’t tell me it had to do with the cat.” 

Kenny grins. “In fact, that’s exactly what happened. He came through the window, meowing like crazy, so I followed him to that alley.” 

Fulton raises an eyebrow. “And you could understand him?” 

“I’m a shapeshifter and sorcerer’s apprentice.” 

“Ah. Of course.”

Guy checks over his bandages, gives him a gross-smelling potion to drink, and tells him to get some rest. He does so begrudgingly, but he does feel much better when he wakes, a few hours later. Mrs. Germaine gives him a bowl of stew and he tries to eat it without seeming ravenous. 

In the morning, he wakes up before anyone else is even awake and leaves for the alley. 

~

The cat is there, because of course it is, and it has a loaf of bread, because of course it does. 

Once Fulton’s eaten most of the loaf, the cat lets him scratch it behind the ears, and it purrs and butts its head against his side. Fulton is itching to pick up his bow, but he stays put. For the first time, he looks at the key around the cat’s neck. He’s never really thought of it as more than a simple key on a leather collar, but it’s much more intricate than that. He runs his fingers over the leather, carved with intricate loops and swirls and-flowers, apparently. 

He starts to reach for the key itself, and the cat hisses and backs away. 

“I don’t want to take it. I just want to look. Really.” he says, and the cat slowly walks back up. He gently takes the key in his hand and lifts it slightly. The top of the key is molded in the shape of a heart, and the same flower decorations from the collar adorn the sides. 

Seeing the decorations sparks something in Fulton’s chest. He’s not sure why. Maybe it’s the fact that the Prince took the time to decorate this, and the slight messiness of it suggests that he did it himself. 

_Shit._

Fulton Reed might be falling in love

~

“He’s never going to love me.” Portman complains as soon as he climbs through the window and shifts to human. 

Kenny just smiles knowingly. 

“And what makes you say that?” 

Portman opens his mouth, pauses, and closes it. 

“Well. I don’t know, exactly. He just seems like he couldn’t care less, really.” 

Kenny just shakes his head, and keeps on smiling. 

“Oh, just because you finally got with Luis you’re now an expert on romance?” Portman counters. Kenny has the good nature to blush. 

“Shut up.” 

“How’d that go down, anyways?” Portman asks, rolling onto his stomach and looking up at Kenny. 

“You know how he’s always using pickup lines on me? Yeah, he reused one and so I said ‘Pretty sure you’ve used that one before’ and then he says ‘You remembered?’ and then I kissed him?” Kenny says. 

Portman laughs. “Real smooth!” 

Kenny throws a pillow at him.


	4. Chapter 4

Two months of the three-month deadline that Portman promised his mother have passed, and he’s still convinced that Fulton isn’t in love with him. He truly doesn’t know what to do without revealing himself. All he can do is spend his days in the alley and pine. 

And then, for the worse or the better, a situation presents itself. 

Portman’s been waiting in the alley for nearly the whole day when he hears a clamor across the way. He walks over and hops up onto the fence to get a better look, and what he sees makes his insides freeze. 

Fulton’s on the ground, being held down by someone (An older brother, maybe?) and getting the shit kicked out of him by someone who can only be his dad. Portman leaps down from the fence and runs over, scratching at Fulton’s dad’s leg. His dad stops long enough to push him away and yell something about “Damn cat! Get outta here!” 

Portman’s vision turns red, and he shifts to human, shoving Fulton’s dad out of the way. Suddenly, Fulton’s dad seems a lot more interested in stopping. 

“Get out of here. Now.” Portman growls, and both men turn pale and scramble back into the house. As soon as the door slams behind them, he turns and kneels down at Fulton’s side. He’s breathing raggedly, and blood is dotting the side of his tunic. Without thinking, Portman scoops him up and starts for the Germaine family’s house. 

~

When Fulton wakes up in an eerily familiar place, he hears two people talking in hushed tones. A third voice joins the conversation, and he recognizes it as Guy’s. He lifts his head and sees Kenny, as well. The third figure has their back to him. He looks over to the nightstand, expecting to see the cat, and a wave of sadness hits him when he doesn’t see it there. Its presence had become comforting in the past two weeks. 

As he tries to sit up, a sharp pain blooms in his ribs, and he falls back onto the bed. As he’s about to drift back to sleep, the bed dips with a sleight weight, and he opens one eye to see the cat, curled up by his chest, and he smiles. 

It’s light out when he wakes. The cat is still curled up next to him, and the pain in his ribs has subsided. He manages to sit up without waking the cat, and a knock at the door makes him turn to see Guy with a bowl of food and Charlie and Kenny behind him. Charlie looks so worried that it makes Fulton feel sick with guilt. 

“Hey, dude.” Guy says quietly. He hands Fulton the bowl, and waits for Fulton to eat his fill before he starts talking. 

“You’re not going back there.” Guy says, and Charlie nods in agreement. 

“How did you find me this time?” Fulton asks. Kenny opens his mouth as if to say something, but clamps it shut quickly. 

“That’s for someone else to explain.” Kenny says, walking over and batting the cat lightly on the head to wake it up. 

“He’s up, and you owe an explanation.” Kenny says. The cat dips its head and the three boys walk out of the room. Once the door clicks shut, the cat leaps off the bed and in the blink of an eye, Dean Portman is standing there. 

Fulton blinks. 

“What?” 

Portman smiles. 

“Dean Portman. Prince. Shapeshifter. Nice to meet you,” he says, holding out a hand. Fulton takes it and shakes it tentatively. 

“Wait, so...you found me? Took me here?” Fulton asks. 

“Well. Yes?” 

Fulton raises an eyebrow. 

“I’d been waiting in the alley all day. I heard something going on nearby, went to investigate, and found your dad beating the shit out of you. So I shifted to human, scared him off, and carried you here.” Portman says. 

“Why, though?” Fulton asks. “You barely even know me.” 

Portman takes the key from around his neck and holds it out to Fulton. 

“I’d like to. If you’re willing.” 

Fulton stares at it for a long time, processing. Finally, he looks up at Portman and says “Okay.” 

“Really?” Portman asks. 

“On one condition: I get to know you, too.” Fulton says. 

“Okay.” 

They shake on it. 

~

After Portman sending Kenny to get a cloak from the castle and Fulton borrowing from Mr. Germaine, they head out. 

"So. Where to?" Portman asks. "I don't know any good places around here." 

"Um. My friends Goldberg's family owns a restaurant down the street, but. I don't know if…" Fulton trails off. 

"If what?" 

"If my friends are there. They probably are, and I just...I don't know. It'd be awkward, probably." Fulton says.

"Alright, we don't have to go there, then." Portman says easily. "How about...I'm pretty sure there's a bakery a few streets down, right?" 

Fulton nods. "Yeah. How'd you know about it?"

Portman blushes slightly. "...It's where I got all the bread." 

Fulton laughs. 

Portman thinks it's the nicest sound he's ever heard. 

"Sure, we can go there." Fulton says, but then his smile drops. "Oh...I don't have any money. Nevermind, then. Sorry." 

Portman shrugs. "It's not a big deal. I can pay." 

Fulton opens his mouth to argue, but Portman grins and points at the gold circlet on his head. 

"Prince, remember?" 

Fulton tries to hold back a smile and elbows Portman gently in the ribs. 

Soon enough, they reach the bakery. The smells of fresh baked bread and cinnamon and sugar hit them as soon as Portman opens the door, and they both inhale deeply. 

"Hullo boys, what'll it be?" The lady behind the counter asks. 

"Could I get a raspberry crown, please, ma'am?" Portman asks. She nods and turns to Fulton. 

"And for you, love?" 

"Um. Just a wheat bun. Please." He asks. Portman raises an eyebrow, and Fulton can feel his face flushing. 

"Could you make that two raspberry crowns, please?" Portman asks. The lady smiles and nods, grabbing everything from their respective cases and handing them to Portman. He hands her a few coins and turns to leave. 

"Muito obrigado! Virei outra vez!”

The lady gets a surprised look on her face, but they're out the door before she can respond. 

"What language was that? You didn't cuss her out, did you?" Fulton asks. Portman laughs. 

"No. I told her 'Thanks, I'll come again' in Portuguese." 

"Oh. How did you know she'd understand?" Fulton asks. 

"The name of the store is literally 'family bakery' in Portuguese." Portman answers. 

Fulton laughs. "Very to the point. I like it." 

Portman opens the bag and hands one of the raspberry crowns to Fulton. 

"...I couldn't." Fulton says. 

"I insist. It's already paid for." Portman says. Fulton takes it and bites into it. 

"Thank you." 

Portman smiles. "Of course. Is there a park or something nearby where we could eat these?" 

"There's one down the road, but since it's getting dark...I don't know if it'd be the best idea." Fulton says. 

"Oh." Portman says. "What about...the alley?" 

Fulton considers this for a moment. 

"That...would actually be perfect."

Portman offers Fulton his arm. 

"Shall we?" 

Fulton takes it and tries not to think too much about how warm Portman is. 

~

"...so Julie got kicked out for being awesome?" Portman says as they reach the alley. 

"Basically. She did _technichally_ punch both of those guys, but it's not like they didn't deserve it." Fulton replies, hopping on top of a crate. 

"You have some pretty good friends." 

"Suppose I do." 

"So...care to show me some archery?" Portman asks, grinning. 

"Haven't you seen it plenty?" Fulton asks, but he smiles and reaches for his bow and quiver.

Portman watches with hearts in his eyes as Fulton shoots arrow after arrow, making conversation about nothing and everything, until it's dark and he can only see the outline of Fulton's body. 

"Can I meet you here tomorrow?" Portman asks, almost nervously. 

Fulton smiles warmly. 

"Of course. I'll be here." 

Portman smiles and turns to leave, but just as he's about to exit the alley, he grabs Fulton's shoulder, turns him around, and places a kiss on his cheek. 

Then he's gone.

~

“Dean, honey?” Queen Emily calls through the door. 

“Yeah, mom?”

“Can I come in? I want to talk to you.” 

“Sure.” 

The door creaks open and Queen Emily walks in and sits herself down on one of the many lounge chairs in Dean’s room. 

“Honey, your contest...have you gotten a winner yet? Because it’s been two weeks, and you promised that you would have someone by then.” 

Dean pauses. 

“I’ve found someone.” He says. Queen Emily raises an eyebrow. 

“Do tell.” 

“I came across him in an alley while he was practicing his archery, and we got to talking, and he’s really sweet and I really like him.” Dean says, blushing. Queen Emily smiles. 

“What’s his name?”

“Fulton. Fulton Reed.” 

“And you’re sure that… _he_ is the one?” She asks. 

Portman nods. “I’m sure, mom.” 

Queen Emily nods, and stands to leave. 

“You know that some people might not like this very much. They’ll try to keep you apart.” 

“I know, mom. Don’t worry.” He smiles reassuringly at him mom, and with that, she leaves. 

~

Fulton nocks an arrow in his bow and is about to fire it when he hears footsteps. They're faint, but they're there, and he smiles. 

He lowers his bow and turns around in a split second, and Portman jumps about a foot in the air. Fulton collapses with laughter, and Portman elbows him in the ribs. 

"How in the hell did you know I was behind you?!" Portman asks, laughing a little himself. 

"When you live in a house like mine, you learn to listen for footsteps." Fulton says dryly. He turns back around and nocks the arrow back in the bow. 

Portman tries not to dwell on that sentence. 

“Anyways, I had a question for you.” Portman says. 

Fulton releases the arrow and puts his bow to the side, turning around fully to face Portman. 

“What’s up?” 

“I was wondering...do you think you could teach me how to shoot?” Portman asks, seeming embarrassed. 

Fulton smiles. 

“I can try. No guarantees, though.” 

Portman smiles brightly and Fulton can’t help but smile back. 

“Okay, pick up the bow...are you right handed or left handed?” Fulton asks. 

“RIght.” Portman answers. 

“Okay, so take the bow in your left hand so that you would be drawing the string back in your right hand.” Fulton says, placing his hands on Portman’s arms and moving them around ever so slightly. His touch is light and gentle, not what one would expect from someone of his stature. 

Portman realizes how close Fulton is, and tries not to blush. 

“Alright, now for the arrow…” Fulton grabs one from his quiver on the ground. 

“Place the arrowhead just over your left first finger, on the bowshaft. Make sure the feathers are turned the right way…” Fulton pauses to adjust the arrow slightly, and Portman’s _definitely_ blushing now. 

“Take the end of the arrow between your first two fingers, pull back, aim, and release.” Fulton says, stepping back. Portman does so and lets the arrow fly, and it strikes the target in one of the outer rings. 

“Not bad.” Fulton smiles. “Here, try again.” He hands Portman the quiver and Portman shoots until he empties it, Fulton adjusting his stance every now and then. Once the last arrow has hit the target, Fulton goes and collects them and hands them to Portman, and they start all over again. 

Soon, Portman loses count of how many times they’ve emptied and refilled the quiver. It’s still light out, so Portman suggests they go get lunch. 

Soon enough, they’re walking along the river, each holding an apple. The sun is shining, for once, and Portman and Fulton are making nice conversation until Fulton is shoved from behind, knocking him onto the ground. 

“Don’t bother getting up, dumbass.” McGill sneers. Fulton is covered in mud, but Portman helps him up without a second thought, glaring daggers at McGill and his lackeys. 

“And who might _you_ be?” One of McGill’s lackeys asks. Portman steps toward them, eerily calm, still staring daggers. 

“Why does it matter?” Portman asks. 

“So that we can decide whether we should try and save you from this deadbeat’s company or beat your ass too.” McGill looks smug. 

Portman laughs. 

“What’s so funny?” 

“I in fact happen to be Prince Dean Portman, next in line for the throne of Portugal.” 

McGill turns white as a sheet and stammers out the beginnings of a sentence before turning tail and running away. 

Portman turns back to Fulton, smiling. 

“Do you think I scared them?” he asks innocently. 

Fulton bursts out laughing, and Portman has to join in too. 

Eventually, their laughter dies down and they continue along the banks of the river. 

"If you don't mind me asking...do those three do that often?" 

Fulton sighs. 

"Not really? They only do it when there's no adults around, but I usually beat the crap out of them. I figured they lost interest at this point."

Portman purses his lips, but doesn't say anymore on the topic, changing the subject easily. Internally, however, he's making a solemn promise that from now on, anyone that tries to hurt Fulton is going to have all the wrath of Hell itself rained upon them. Or, you know. Something like that. 

He wants nothing more than to tell Fulton this, that he would do anything; _everything_ for him, but he figures it's a bit early on for that, so he settles for staring at him lovingly as they walk on. 

Apparently, they've gone in a circle, because they're now back at the alley and Fulton is standing in front of Portman. He's not sure when they started holding hands. It's nice, though. 

"I think I like talking with you." Fulton says, smiling softly. 

"Oh yeah?" 

Fulton kisses him on the cheek lightly, and grins. 

"Yeah." 

Then he turns, and is gone.


	5. Chapter 5

The sun is blasing and it's much hotter than usual that day, and Portman and Fulton are sitting in the shade of the alley, making conversation, when Charlie shows up. 

"Hey, guys! Since it's so hot out, Dwayne's parents are letting us swim in their part of the lake! C'mon!" 

Fulton grins and gets to his feet, holding out a hand to help Portman up. Portman gets up, but he doesn't look too excited about the prospect of swimming. 

"Come on, it's super fun. I promise." Fulton says, taking his hand and tugging it a little. 

Portman raises an eyebrow. 

"Cats and water don't exactly go together, remember?" 

"Well then you can sit on the dock in the shade and accompany us. Please?" Fulton asks, with a hopeful little grin that makes Portman's heart do a little flutter. 

Portman grins in spite of himself. 

"Alright." 

~

"Hey, y'all! Jump on in!" Dwayne greets them as they walk up to the dock. Most of Fulton's friends are in the water, splashing around and laughing. Fulton grins and pulls off his boots and his overshirt and jumps in with the rest of them. Portman, however, hangs out on the dock, sitting down next to someone who he thinks might be Adam? 

"Hello. Not interested in swimming?" Adam asks. 

Portman shakes his head. "Nah." 

"Fair enough. I'm Adam." He says, holding out a hand for Portman to shake and he can see that Adam's other hand is incased in a heavy bandage. 

"Dean Portman." He replies, shaking Adam's hand. Adam raises an eyebrow, and Portman excpects some comment about his being a prince.

"Oh, so, you're the one that's got Fulton smiling all the time?" Adam asks, a cheeky grin on his face. 

"I...I guess so." Portman says, blushing a little. Adam laughs. 

"Seriously, in all the time I've known him, he's always been on the quiet side. Not that there's anything wrong with that, though. I think you've really made an impact on him." 

Portman looks over the water, watching Fulton laugh and mess around with his friends, and he smiles. 

"I guess so." 

Portman looks back over at Adam to see him staring at another boy in the water whom Portman recognizes as Charlie. 

"Looks like you got someone special too, huh?" Portman teases. Adam grins good-naturedly and looks away. 

"Yeah." 

The conversation ends there, and they sit in a comfortable silence as they watch their respective boyfriends fool around. Eventually, it gets a little darker and the air grows cooler and everyone climbs out and gets re-dressed. Dwayne's parents come out with food for them all, and they talk and laugh and eat as the sun sets. 

It’s not too far of a walk from Dwayne’s house to Fulton’s, there’s just a stretch of woods in between, so Portman and Fulton opt out of getting a ride on the Robertson’s horse-cart in favour of walking. 

“Hey, Fulton?” 

“Yeah?”

“Your friends are pretty amazing.” 

Fulton smiles. 

“Yeah, I know. I saw you talking to adam on the dock, what do you think of him?” 

“He seems nice. Loyal. Also, he’s really got it for Charlie.” Portman grins. 

Fulton laughs. “That he does.” 

“Actually, I had a question...why do you guys call him cake-eater?” 

“He lives in a much nicer area than the rest of us. His parents have a lot of money, and he used to be friends with Larson and McGill. Those kids who were harassing us the other day.” Fulton explains. “Then a bunch of stuff happened with the areas and a bunch of confusing stuff and he started hanging out with us more and more.” 

“And then he and Charlie started dating?”

“Yes, but not after literal months of pining after each other.” 

Portman laughs. “Is it bad that I can totally say that sounds like them?” 

“They are pretty obvious.” Fulton agrees.

They continue to make pleasant conversation the whole way through the woods. Once the trees start thinning and they can see the exit, though, Fulton appears to tense up. His responses become shorter and clipped. Portman notices the change, and he realizes that it can only be because of Fulton’s parents. 

“Hey...would you want to spend the night with me?” Portman asks, hesitantly. 

“Oh, I couldn’t. You don’t have to do that, I’ll be okay.” Fulton says instantly. 

“Are you sure? I could just rent a room at an inn or something of the like.” 

“No, I wouldn’t want you wasting money on me.” 

“Well...if you’re sure you’ll be okay.” Portman says. 

“I’ll live.” 

Portman places a hand on Fulton’s shoulder, and he stops. He opens his mouth to try and say...well, he doesn’t quite know what, exactly. Either way, it comes out as “Can I give you a hug?” 

Fulton nods, and Portman wraps his arms around Fulton’s shoulders. Fulton practically melts into the embrace, and Portman notes how cold he is; how cold he always seems to be. 

When they finally pull away, Portman’s hand lingers on Fulton’s shoulder before he pulls it away. 

“I’ll...I’ll see you tomorrow, then? In the alley?” 

Fulton nods. 

“I’ll be there.” 

Portman smiles a little sadly, shifts, and runs off into the tall grass. Fulton watches him go off until he can’t see him anymore, and then he sighs and resigns himself to the fact that he still has to go in the house. 

Unbeknownst to Fulton, Portman stayed hidden in the tall grass, watching as he walks up the stairs and opens the door. He leaps up onto a stump and lays down, keeping a careful eye on the house. He doesn't know why, but he has a feeling that something is going to go sour. 

Sure enough, after not twenty minutes, the door slams open and a sleazy looking man who he recognizes as Fulton's father comes out, dragging Fulton by the sleeve. He slaps Fulton across the face and shoves him off the steps, yelling something. It takes Portman a second to make it out because of how drunk he is. 

"-disgrace to this family! And you know what? No fancy fuckin' Prince to save you this time, huh? Betcha he was just trying to get sex for savin' yer ass!' 

Portman sees red. He leaps off the stump, shifts, and runs over to Fulton in one swift movement. Fulton seems surprised to see him, and Fulton's father even more so. 

"I don't believe you're quite correct there, _sir._ " Portman says, voice seething with anger.

Fulton's father turns pale and tries to stammer something out before simply turning tail and disappearing back into the house, slamming the door behind him.

The sound makes Fulton flinch in Portman's arms, and Portman realizes that he's having trouble breathing. In between gasps for air, he's muttering something in-is that french? 

"Hey. Hey, Fulton. Do I have permission to use a small healing spell on you? It'll calm you down and help your breathing and then we can go from there." Portman asks, shifting Fulton so that his head is in Portman's lap. 

Fulton nods slightly, and Portman whispers something in a language unknown. His palms begin to glow silver, and he presses them to Fulton's chest. Immediately, Fulton starts breathing easier, but he's still mumbling a constant stream of French under his breath. 

"Would it be alright for you to pick you up and move you?" Portman asks. Again, Fulton nods his head, so Portman slips an arm under Fulton's shoulders and his waist and easily picks him up, bridal-style. He carries him to a small clearing just inside the tree line and sets him down propped up against a tree. 

"I'm so sorry you had to deal with that." Fulton says, looking ashamed and not meeting Portman's eyes. 

"I couldn't have stood to the side." Portman says, sitting down next to him. 

"Still. You shouldn't have bothered. I'd have been fine. I always am." 

On an impulse, Portman reaches out and grabs Fulton's hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. 

"You don't always have to be fine, though. It's alright to ask for help. And I'm more than happy to. Help, that is." 

"Pourquoi es-tu si gentil avec moi? Tu ne devrais pas être. Je ne le mérite pas." Fulton says, looking away from Portman. "Vraiment, tu devrais juste partir."

Portman just squeezes his hand comfortingly. "If you want me to leave, I will. But you are _not_ going back in that house, okay?"

Fulton doesn’t respond. Portman opens his mouth to try and say something else, but he decides against it and settles in next to Fulton, still holding his hand. They sit there in silence and listen to the wind rustling the trees and the bubbling of a brook just out of sight. 

Portman loses track of the time and before he knows it, it’s almost too dark to see his hand in front of his face. He makes a move to get up, but Fulton’s head falls on his shoulder, and he realizes that Fulton’s asleep. 

He smiles softly to himself and lets Fulton sleep for a moment longer before he shakes his shoulder gently. 

“Hey, Fulton. Wake up.” 

Fulton slowly lifts his head off of Portman’s shoulder and blinks sleepily. 

“What?” 

“Unless you want to spend all night out here, we need to find an inn.” 

Fulton nods and yawns, getting to his feet. Portman follows suit, and as he starts to walk forwards, Fulton takes his hand and laces their fingers again, and they walk out of the woods in silence. 

They find a nice enough inn about twenty minutes away, and Portman gets them a room. The innkeeper raises an eyebrow at Portman’s presence, but says nothing and guides them up to their room. 

Fulton collapses onto the bed face-first almost immediately. Portman laughs quietly and sits down on the edge of the bed, pulling his boots and overshirt off. Fulton groans and sits up, opting to kick his boots off to the other side of the room instead of taking them off properly. He wriggles out of his overshirt and crawls under the covers, pulling the quilt up to his chin. 

Portman takes an extra moment to wash his face and hands in the basin, and then he joins Fulton under the covers. 

The events of the day finally start to catch up with him, and he’s about to drift off when Fulton speaks. 

“Hey, Dean?” Fulton’s voice is barely even a whisper. 

“Yeah?” 

“Thank you. Nobody’s ever really defended me from him before. Especially not twice. ” Fulton's voice is wet, and Portman cups his face with his hand and wipes away a tear or two with his thumb. 

"Of course." 

Portman hesitantly wraps an arm around Fulton's waist and pulls him a little closer. Fulton burrows down further into the covers and tucks his head under Portman's chin. They fall asleep like that, legs tangled together and hearts beating in tandem. 

~

In the morning, they stay under the covers for as long as they can before the innkeeper knocks on their door with two bowls of porridge. They eat in silence, neither of them quite sure what to say. 

"I have to-" 

"Should we-" 

They each stop and gesture for the other to go first, then laugh. 

"I, um. I have to head back to the castle. I should let my family know that I haven't been assassinated." Portman says. "What were you going to say?" 

"Oh, it's nothing. Just something along those same lines." Fulton says. "And yes, you should probably go do that. We can meet up later, or tomorrow, or whenever suits your fancy." 

"I'd like to do today, but knowing my mom, she'll probably end up roping me into something. So just to be safe, let's say tomorrow?" 

"Tomorrow it is, then." 

They make the bed, take the bowls downstairs, and leave money for the innkeeper. Outside the inn, Portman presses a brief kiss to Fulton's cheek and then he shifts and he's gone. 

Fulton can't help the small grin on his face the entire way to the alley.


	6. Chapter 6

Fulton smiles and lowers his bow when he sees the cat hop over the fence. In a split second, Portman is standing in front of him, and he smiles wider. 

“Hey, archer.” 

“Hey, yourself,” Fulton says, raising his bow back up and releasing the arrow. 

“At ease, I come bearing gifts.” Portman says. 

“And what would those be?” Fulton asks, setting his bow down. 

Portman smiles and holds out a set of new bowstrings, wax, and arrowheads. Fulton gasps slightly and takes them, admiring the arrowheads. 

“Nothing super fancy, but I figured they’d be of use. And...I have one more thing, if you want it.” Portman says. 

“And what would that be?” Fulton asks. 

“A kiss. A proper one, that is.” 

Fulton is silent as he sets the gifts to the side. Slowly, he takes a step forward, and then another, until he’s right in front of Portman. Hesitantly, he reaches out and takes Portman’s hand in his. 

“That sounds nice.” Fulton says, smiling. Portman huffs a laugh and rests his forehead against Fulton’s. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” 

Smiling, Portman closes the distance between them in a kiss. He places a hand on the back of Fulton’s neck and tilts his head _just so_ , making it even better. 

The kiss is broken when Portman grins and mumbles something Fulton doesn't quite catch. 

"What?" 

"I said, 'Glad we’re on the same page here.'"

Fulton laughs against Portman's mouth and places his hands on Portman's shoulders, pulling him into another kiss. 

Fulton hesitantly shifts his hands to loop around Portman’s neck, and Portman thinks nothing of it until the clasp is undone and Fulton’s taking the key from around his neck. 

They break, and Fulton is holding they key up in the air and grinning softly. 

“I suppose I win, then.” 

Portman laughs. 

“I’m glad it’s you.” 

Fulton kisses him again. 

~

“CITIZENS! HEAR THIS ANNOUNCEMENT! YOU HAVE BEEN CALLED HERE TODAY BECAUSE THE PRINCE DEAN PORTMAN HAS FOUND SOMEONE TO TAKE HIS HAND!” 

The crowd of people around the platform quiet down, and the herald steps back. Portman steps forward, hand-in-hand with Fulton. Immediately, the gossiping whispers and glares begin, but they pay no mind. 

“Citizens, I thank you for your hospitality and participation in my contest. You all tried valiantly, but unfortunately, none of you used the right approach. Had you tried to befriend my cat instead of chasing it violently, you might have gotten it to listen, and hear you out.” Portman says. 

“How was a cat supposed to hear us out?” A voice from the crowd calls. 

Portman smirks and shifts, drawing a gasp from the crowd. He shifts back to human and takes Fulton’s hand in his once again. 

“I would like to formally introduce you all to my betrothed, Fulton Reed. He never once gave chase, nor tried to take the key until yesterday. So when he took it yesterday, I offered it willingly.” Portman says. A cheer rises from the crowd, and from the sound of it, it started near the edge of the crowd, right where Fulton’s friends are placed. Soon, nearly the entire crowd is cheering, and a few wolf-whistles sound when Portman kisses Fulton, smiling. 

“So, again, I thank all of those who participated, and I wish you all the best of luck in your future endeavours.” Portman says, waving goodbye and exiting the platform, hand-in-hand with Fulton once again. 

As soon as the palace doors close behind them, Portman bursts out laughing. 

“What?” Fulton asks bemusedly. 

“There was a girl standing near the front that looked like she wanted to _murder_ you!”

“Oh, really? What did she look like?” Fulton asks. They reach Portman’s chambers and enter; Portman latches the door behind them. 

“She looked kinda like you, actually.” Portman answers, flopping onto the bed. “Why do you ask?”

Fulton feels sick to his stomach. 

“I’m pretty sure that was my sister.” 

Portman rolls onto his back and sits up. “That’s not good.” 

Fulton huffs a shaky laugh. “Nope.” 

Portman grabs his wrist gently and pulls him to sit down on the bed. “Well, there’s no possible way that she's getting in here. Even if we didn’t have the entire castle guard, there’s no way I’d let them lay a finger on you. Promise.” He says, placing a hand on the back of Fulton’s neck. 

Fulton smiles and leans in, kissing him. 

“My knight in shining armour, huh?” He mutters, smiling. Portman laughs and pulls him into another kiss. 

~

"Um, my apologies for the interruption, but there's a small group of teenagers at the gate asking to see the Prince's betrothed." The guard says. Fulton sits up and gets off of the bed, pulling his boots and cloak on. He looks back at Portman, who frowns playfully but gets up as well, and they follow the guard to the gate. There, Fulton can see Charlie, Adam, Julie, Linda, Connie, Guy, Averman, and Goldberg, looking nervous. They relax, however, when they see Fulton and Portman walking towards them.

Fulton smiles and runs up to the gate, and as soon as the guard lets them in they're all over him, hugging him and talking all at once. 

"One at a time! Please!" He laughs, and they step back. 

Julie is the first to speak. 

"What happened to thinking the Prince was an asshole!" She blurts out, looking like she half regrets it. Portman raises an eyebrow, and Fulton punches Julie's arm lightly. 

"Yeah, but that was before I got to know him." He responds. 

They make easy conversation with not so much as a pause for breath as they walk into the castle and up into a common room. Fulton realized how much he missed talking with his friends, even if it was just a gap of a few days. 

At some point, Portman and Kenny disappear and come back 10 minutes later with plates of food and a dark haired boy in a kitchen uniform in tow. 

"We got food, y'all!" Portman calls, setting one of the plates down on the table. Kenny and the other boy put their plates down as well, and step back. Everyone scrambles for the food at once, grabbing handfuls of grapes and slices of cheese, meat, and bread. 

Fulton nods a 'hello' to the other boy. He thinks his name is Luis? Luis nods back and moves to stand next to Kenny. They have a short conversation, and then Kenny steps up from the wall and towards the ring of chairs and couches. 

"Hey, so I've definitely heard stories of you all, but I couldn't put names to faces, so...would you mind introducing yourselves?" Kenny asks. 

"I'm Charlie." 

"Adam Banks." 

"Julie." 

"Linda." 

"Connie." 

"Guy." 

"Averman." 

"Goldberg." 

They go around the circle, introducing themselves and giving small waves and smiles. 

"Nice to meet you all. I'm Kenny, and this is Luis." Kenny says, reaching an arm back towards Luis. Luis steps off of the wall and up next to Kenny.

A silence stretches out for a split second before Averman says something ridiculous that brings the conversation right back to where it was before. It's easy and comfortable for everyone, and anyone passing by would think that everyone here has known everyone else for years. 

Eventually, though, everyone has to return home, and the castle returns to a lull. Later, when Portman and Fulton are cuddled under the covers, Portman murmurs something into Fulton's neck. 

"What was that?" Fulton asks. 

"I said, I really like your friends." Portman says, lifting his head. 

"Yeah. They're a likeable group." 

"They really care about you. I can tell." Portman says sleepily. Fulton's pretty convinced he's too sleepy to filter what he's saying, but at least it's nice. 

"Oh, yeah?" 

"Yeah. That's easy though. You're too wonderful to not like." Portman says. He curls back down under the covers and his eyes slip closed, signalling the end of the conversation. Within a few minutes, he's asleep. Fulton, however, stays awake a little longer, thinking about how lucky he really is to have ended up here, with a boy who loves him and whom he loves back, and caring friends and something closer to a family than he's ever had.


	7. Chapter 7

_One year later_

“DEAN!” 

Portman sighs and carefully moves Fulton’s head off of his lap, trying to not wake him up. He gets up and walks over to the door, opening it to see Sofia standing there, looking triumphant. Kenny is behind her, and he raises an eyebrow at Portman’s messy hair. Portman just glares at him and turns his attention to Sofia. 

“What’s up, kiddo?” He asks his sister. 

“Watch this.” She says, grinning. He blinks and all of a sudden, there’s a brown rabbit standing on the ground in front of him. She shifts back quickly and he sweeps her up in a hug, laughing. 

“Nice job, squirt!” 

She laughs along with him but squirms to be let down. When he doesn’t immediately, she smirks and shifts, hopping over to Kenny before shifting back. 

“Hey, Sofia, you know the kitchen boy, Luis?” Kenny asks. 

“Is he the one who always gives us lavender honeycakes?” Sofia asks. “I like him!” 

“Why don’t you go try to scare him?” Kenny suggests, and she happily runs off. 

Portman raises an eyebrow. “Wow, what a good boyfriend you are.” 

Kenny laughs. “Ah, I’m sure he’ll get a kick out of it. He’s fascinated with sorcery and shifting and the like.” 

“Anyways, I have a couple of letters for Fulton, from his friends.” Kenny says, pulling a few envelopes from his satchel. 

Portman raises an eyebrow. “You didn’t go get those in this rain, did you?” he asks. Kenny shakes his head. 

“Nah, got em’ yesterday but I came back late and then I had to go meet up with Luis, so I figured it could wait.” he says, handing the envelopes to Portman. 

“You met up with Luis, huh?” Portman says. “I couldn’t tell.” He smirks and nods to an impressive bruise blooming on Kenny’s neck. Kenny blushes and socks Portman on the arm. 

“Shut up, like you haven’t had worse.” Kenny says. Portman laughs. 

“Fair enough. Thanks for the letters. See you at dinner, yeah?” he asks. “Isto é, se você não está muito ocupado transando com seu namorado.”

Kenny laughs. “Contanto que você não esteja transando com seu amado arqueiro!” He shifts into a dove and flies off before Portman can retort. 

Portman walks back into the room to see Fulton awake and sitting in the window nook, watching the rain. He turns when he hears the door click shut, and smiles. 

“Hey.” 

“Hey, yourself.” Portman says, kissing Fulton on the forehead and handing him the letters. “Special delivery.” He hands the letters to Fulton and then walks to the bed, picking up his book. 

They read in silence for a while, the rain consistently pattering against the windowpane and Fulton occasionally laughing ever so slightly. Portman keeps looking up from his book when this happens, and eventually he sets it to the side to fully admire the love of his life 

Fulton finishes reading the last letter and sets all of them to the side. He looks over to the bed to see Portman looking at him, and laughs. 

“What?”

Portman smiles. 

“I love you.”

Fulton smiles back. 

“I love you too.” 

~

Kenny flies out the window and around the castle to the kitchen, where Luis is currently chasing Sofia around the room as she giggles. Kenny flies through the window and perches on top of a high cabinet, shifting back to human and waiting for one of them to notice him. 

Eventually, Luis captures Sofia and picks her up, throwing her over his shoulder, but he doesn't take more than two steps before she shifts and hops down to the floor. Kenny can't help but laugh at this, and Luis looks up and smiles. 

"Are you going to sit up there or are you going to come down here and help?" Luis asks with a fake pout. Kenny smirks and pretends to think about it. 

"Hmm...I don't know, it's pretty nice up here…" Kenny says, laughing when Luis tries and fails to repress a smile. He hops down and walks over to Luis, planting a kiss on his cheek. 

"Ola, adoçante." Kenny says. "What're you making here?" 

"Rojões à moda do Minho.” Luis answers. "Which I really should get back to. Can you please get Sofia under control?" 

Kenny laughs. "I can try." He kisses Luis and turns to Sofia, scooping her up. "Time to keep practicing your elemental magic, pequeno coelho." 

Sofia pouts but lets herself be carried out of the kitchen, where Kenny sets her down. 

"Race to the tower? Any powers allowed." Kenny says, smirking. She nods and shifts, so does he, and they're off. 

It's a close race, but Kenny wins by a few seconds. Sofia pouts for a moment, but quickly regains her composure and starts focusing on her magic. 

By the time the clock tower chimes to announce dinner, Sofia's managed to master control of Fire, and is making good progress on Metal. 

"You know, Fire and Metal were the first elements your brother mastered." Kenny mentions as they walk to the dining hall. 

"Really?" Sofia asks, starry eyed. 

"Yep. I remember the first time he used Fire. Your dad looked like he couldn't decide to reprimand him or praise him. Your dad was good at using Fire, too." 

Sofia looks down at the ground. "I miss dad." 

Kenny wraps an arm around her shoulder. "I miss him too. Hey, I bet that wherever he is, he can see you, and he's probably real proud of you." 

Sofia wraps her arms around his waist and hugs him tightly, then runs off towards Portman and Fulton across the hallway. 

"Dean! Dean! I got Fire!" Sofia calls excitedly, and Portman picks her up and throws her over his shoulder in celebration. Kenny laughs, mostly to himself, and runs to catch up with them. 

Dinner is a cheerful affair, with Sofia proudly showing off her new skills and everyone talking and laughing as a big family. It's nice.


	8. Chapter 8

_Six months later._

"So, my mom gave me a few ideas for us to look over for the wedding." Portman says, walking into the room. 

"Oh? Like what?" Fulton asks, putting his book to the side and standing up. 

"Colour schemes and decorations and stuff." Portman says, sitting down at the table and spreading the various papers out. 

Fulton takes a seat next to him, and they look through all the papers, discussing and making notes and changes here and there. 

After they've gone through most of the stack, which wasn't exactly small to begin with, Fulton leans back in his chair and groans, rubbing a hand on his face. 

"I don't know why we have to deal with all of this. I just want it to happen already." Fulton says. 

"Yeah, that's why we have to do this, so that-" Portman starts, but Fulton cuts him off. 

"No, none of this really matters to me. I just want to be married to you already." Fulton says. Portman stares at him for a while, and then practically leaps out of his chair and pulls Fulton into a searing kiss. 

Neither of them notice that the chair is tipping over until they're on the floor. They manage a split second of eye contact before they burst out laughing, Portman's head falling onto Fulton's shoulder. 

"Oops?" Portman offers, grinning. Fulton grins back and kisses him. 

"Now, I'm all for continuing this, but preferably off of the floor, yeah?" Fulton suggests. Portman huffs a laugh and rolls off of Fulton, and they somehow make their way over to the bed, where they spend the rest of the afternoon. 

~

Over the next few days, they finish looking over and changing the plans. As soon as they do, they head to Queen Emily's chambers to talk them over with her. 

"Hey, Avery. Is my mother in her room?" Portman asks as they approach the doors. Queen Emily's handmaiden, Avery, is passing by with a basket of laundry, and she nods her head. 

"Yeah. She just finished talking with Sofia, so she should be free to talk." Avery says. 

"Thanks. By the way, we passed Allyson in the hall, I think she just got off of her post and she was asking for you." Fulton says. 

Avery blushes slightly and walks off, and Portman knocks on the door. 

"Come in." Queen Emily calls, and Portman opens the door and they walk in. 

"Hey, mom. We finished looking over the plans." Portman says, handing her the assorted pieces of parchment. Queen Emily smiles and begins looking through them, raising her eyebrow at a few of the changes. 

"I think we can get most of those to work. Have you configured the invitations yet?" 

"They should be in the pile." 

"Ah, here they are." Queen Emily sifts through the rest of the pile, humming and murmuring things under her breath that neither of them can catch. 

"Thank you very much, you two." Queen Emily says, looking up at them and smiling. "Dean, could I ask you to leave? I wish to talk to Fulton for a moment." 

Dean nods and turns to leave, placing a quick kiss on Fulton's cheek before walking out and shutting the door behind him. 

"Please, Fulton, sit down." Queen Emily says, smiling warmly and gesturing to the several chairs around the table. He hesitantly takes a seat, feeling as if he's about to be scolded. Or worse. (He's definitely had worse, that's for sure.) 

Queen Emily must notice how on edge he is, because she smiles again and says "Don't worry, you're not in trouble." Which does relax him enough to give her a small smile in return. 

"I just wanted to talk about your invitees for a moment. I understand that your family wasn't very kind, and I fully understand if you don't want to invite any of them." She continues. "Am I correct in assuming you want to invite your friends?" 

He nods. "Yeah. I'm pretty sure I put a list of names in that pile somewhere, and Kenny's delivered letters to all of them before." 

"That takes care of that, then. Have you selected a best man?" 

"Yes. My friend Charlie."

"Lovely! One last question, then, and I don't know how better to phrase this...do you know who's going to walk you down the aisle?" Queen Emily asks, looking apologetic. "Because that role usually goes to a father or mother, and…" 

"I was thinking my sister could do it, actually. She's the only person in my family who I'd even consider inviting." Fulton says. Queen Emily smiles sadly and nods. 

"Very well, then. Is she on the invitees list?" 

Fulton nods.

"Then I will arrange for her transportation personally. I can't have her getting lost or hurt, especially if she's important to you." 

Fulton tries to say something like "Thank you," but it instead comes out as "I miss her," all choked up and teary. As soon as he realizes he's crying, he covers his mouth with his hand in a reflex to stop. When Queen Emily realizes, she flies out of her chair and kneels down in front of him, gently prying his hand away from his mouth so that he can breathe. 

He looks away from her, feeling his face flush with shame as the tears fall freely. He flinches when he feels Queen Emily's hand on his cheek, but he relaxes into the touch when he realizes that she's wiping his tears away, not slapping him. 

"Cry all you need, honey." She whispers, and pulls him into a hug. Fulton’s pretty sure that his own mother wouldn’t even acknowledge his sorrow, let alone provide physical comfort. 

She rubs his back gently, comfortingly, and eventually, he calms down. 

"Thank you. Really." Fulton whispers, drawing out of the hug. 

"Anytime, honey." Queen Emily says, smiling and returning to her chair. "Really."

She looks as if she wants to say something else, but can't find the words. 

"I...when Dean first informed me of this contest, I will admit I had my doubts. Many of them. But I could not be more glad that he chose you. You two deserve each other, and I cannot wait to call you my son-in-law." Queen Emily finally says, smiling. 

Fulton almost bursts into tears again. 

"Thank you." 

"Just doing a mother's job." 

~

"Dean, honey? Fulton? The tailor is here. Who wants to go first?" Queen Emily asks, poking her head through the door.

"I suppose I can." Fulton offers, standing up. 

"Lovely, follow me!" Queen Emily says, then sweeps out of the room, Fulton following behind. 

They twist and turn through corridors and halls until they reach a room near the servant's quarters. 

"Here you are, dear. The tailor already has the design sheets that were drawn up, this is mainly for fitting." Queen Emily says, and Fulton enters the room to see a tall boy around his age with a tape measure around his neck and about a hundred pins stuck into his vest. 

"Oh, hello! My name is Benjamin, might I ask yours?" He asks, turning around and holding a hand out. Fulton takes it and shakes it. 

"I'm Fulton. Nice to meet you." 

"Nice to meet you, too. Shall we start?" 

Fulton nods, and Benjamin takes the tape measure from around his neck and motions for Fulton to step to the small raised platform. He does so, and Benjamin starts measuring him, writing down the measurements in a small notebook, and re-measuring. 

"You're very precise with your measurements." Fulton notes. 

"Oh, I'm sorry, I don't mean to be taking so long!" Benjamin says, embarrassed. 

"No, that's not what I meant. Take all the time you need, really. I just figured you must really know what you're doing, I suppose." Fulton says, apologetic. 

"Oh! Well, thank you, then!" Benjamin says. "To tell you the truth...most people comment on me taking two measurements, and they're rarely nice like you." 

"Well, that's rather rude." 

"I've learnt to deal with it. My...boyfriend usually mutters some sort of insult at them in Polish." Benjamin says, laughing softly. 

"Clever. I wish I knew another language." Fulton says. 

"So do I. I only know the few words that my boyfriend has taught me." Benjamin says, and then stands up. "Alright, I have all the measurements I need, so if we can go over the design sheets once more I can start sewing…" 

~ 

“Hello, am I to assume that you are Prince Dean?” Benjamin asks as Portman walks through the door. 

“Indeed I am. Nice to meet you.” Portman says, shaking Benjamin’s hand. 

“If you could step up here, please, I can begin taking my measurements.” Benjamin says, gesturing to the small platform and taking out his tape measure and notebook. 

Benjamin begins taking the measurements in silence. It’s a little awkward, and he’s searching for a topic of conversation when Portman speaks up. 

“I like the pin on your collar.” 

Benjamin has a small enamel pin of a sprig of lavender adorning the collar of his shirt, and he perks up when Portman mentions it. 

“Oh! Thank you very much! I actually have a small collection of these type of pins back home.” 

“Oh, yeah? What was the first pin you got?’ Portman asks. 

“A tri-coloured oak leaf. A gift, from my boyfriend.” Benjamin answers. 

“Oh yeah? Huh. Maybe I should get Fulton something like that.” Portman muses. 

Portman falls silent after that and Benjamin looks up to see a dreamy, love-filled expression on his face.

"I can tell you really care for him." Benjamin says. Dean nods. 

"It's weird, I've never really had someone like him in my life and I've barely even known him for half a year. But, at the same time, I feel as if I've known him my whole life. Everything kind of...clicks into place when I'm with him." Dean says, a sappy smile on his face. 

"Well then, I wish you both only the best for the future." Benjamin says. 

"Thank you very much." 

"Of course. Now, I've finished with my measurements, so if you would mind going over the designs once more…" 

~ 

It's dark out when Portman returns to the room, and Fulton's already in bed, asleep. Quietly, Portman changes into sleep clothes and slips under the covers. He drapes a gentle arm over Fulton's waist and pulls him close, reveling in the warmth of the covers. 

"Hey." Fulton whispers sleepily. 

"Hi. Did I wake you up? Sorry." Portman whispers back. 

"Mmmmhh...I think so, but I don't mind. I was trying to wait up for you anyways." Fulton turns around to face Portman, and sleepily tucks his head under Portman's chin. Portman moves his arm from Fulton's waist to his shoulders. 

"Hey, Fulton?" 

"Yeah?" 

"I love you." 

Portman can feel Fulton's smile against his neck. 

"I love you too." 

They fall asleep tangled together, warm and comfortable and happy.


	9. Chapter 9

_Three months later._

"Are you nervous?" Kenny asks.

"A little." Portman answers. 

Kenny raises an eyebrow. 

"Okay, maybe more than a little." Portman admits. 

"Don't worry. It'll all go perfectly, I promise." 

Just then, Queen Emily sweeps into the room. 

"Dean, honey? It's time." 

He stands up, takes a deep breath, and takes her offered arm. The doors of the chapel open, and they step forward. 

Most of the ceremony itself is a blur. 

However, the sight of Fulton standing in front of him at the altar and looking positively _ethereal_ is crystal clear. 

The vows, too. He remembers how _nervous_ Fulton looked, until Portman gave his hands a small squeeze, and he began.

“I...before this past year or so, I never had a very good life. My family, save for my wonderful sister, were...not very kind. I spent most of my time shooting a target in an alley with an old bow and the same five splintered arrows from the time I could hold the bow. Then, one day, my friend Charlie told me about a contest, one being held by a Prince.”

“Now at the time, my thoughts about romance were nonexistent, and my thoughts on this Prince were simply ‘I think he’s an asshole.’ Then, the next time I got kicked out of the house, I headed for the alley, and there was a cat there. I paid it no mind, thinking that it was a stray looking for food. And then it showed up again in the morning, and the day after that, and again after that, until I finally got it into my head that it was the Prince’s cat.”

“At home, things will take a turn for the worse every once in a while. This certain time, I’m just waiting for it to be over when it suddenly stops, and I hear a new voice. And then I pass out, and when I wake up, the Prince is standing over me.” 

“I’d never had anyone stand up for me before. Ever. And to know have a Prince as a friend, of all things. A few weeks passed, and over the course of time, I slowly realize that I’m falling in love.” 

Both of them are teary eyed at this point, and grinning like crazy. 

“And I keep falling in love more and more every single day, and I have no doubt that I’ll continue to fall in love with you for the rest of our lives.” 

Portman has to resist the urge to kiss him like crazy. The priest says something, and motions for Portman to speak. 

“I...I have known several ways to love throughout my life. I’ve known familial love for my mother, father, and sister. I’ve known platonic love for my friends. I’ve felt romantic love before, but never before has it been on such a level than the love I feel for you. You make me feel like I have a fire going off in my heart and spreading through my veins. Everything is clearer and brighter with you, and it’s something I want to feel for the rest of my life.” 

There’s not a dry eye in the crowd. The priest says something in a language unknown, and his palms glow a rosy gold. He places them just over their conjoined hands, and small, wispy ropes appear around them. 

“Do you each take the man opposite you to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

“I do.” 

“I do.” 

The glow around their hands shines brilliantly, and then fades. 

“You may now kiss to seal this marriage.” 

Before the priest even finishes speaking, they are both leaning in and kissing. Portman moves his hands to Fulton’s neck and pulls him even closer. When they break apart, they’re both grinning wide. 

~

The band is in full swing and the food and drink is plentiful, and every guest is having the time of their life. Yet none more so than the newly betrothed. After the first dance, wherein both of them could be seen grinning like fools, the dance floor is open to any and all who wish, and it's full in minutes. 

Eventually, Portman and Fulton retire to a table where they're instantly swarmed with well-wishers and relatives, and most importantly, their friends. Fulton stands up slightly and pulls Charlie through the crowd, and Charlie pulls Adam, who pulls Guy, until the entire gang is there; at some point Kenny, Luis, and Luis' friend Avery show up as well. More chairs are pulled up around the table, and food and drink is brought, and they talk and they laugh the night away as if they are children again. 

Once it reaches the early hours of morning and most of the guests have trickled out, they decide to call it a night and everyone retires to their respective rooms. Nobody will mention anything about Luis going into Kenny's room with him, or Avery heading towards the guards quarters and being met outside by Allyson. 

Portman and Fulton, despite what many might guess, change into sleep clothes and climb into the bed; they're asleep in each other's arms within minutes. 

In the morning, the first thing that both of them notice is the new weight of the rings on their fingers, and they smile. 

Good times are ahead.


	10. Chapter 10

_Three years later._

The sun filters through the window into the room, giving everything a lazy golden glow. Fulton lifts his head from the pillow and groans, turning onto his side to avoid the glare. He looks over at his husband, settles back down under the covers, and smiles. 

Had you told Fulton three years ago that he would one day marry a Prince-Dean Portman, nonetheless-and get away from his family and actually be _happy,_ he would have scoffed in your face and probably sent an arrow your way. 

But now, lying in bed with the love of his life and not a care in the world, he couldn't be more glad his life turned out this way. 

He moves a hand to Dean’s shoulder and begins lazily running his fingers over golden skin, down his arms and on his sides and down to his hips. Dean opens his eyes when Fulton’s fingertips slip under his waistband, and he smiles. 

“Mhhmmm...is it morning already?” 

“Looks like it.” 

Dean groans and props himself up on an elbow, running his fingers through sleep rumpled hair. Fulton admires the view for a moment, running his knuckles up and down Dean’s arm, and then sits up and presses a kiss to Dean’s forehead. 

“What have we got for today?” Fulton asks. 

“Mhmm…we have to attend the opening of the magic-dueling tournament...and we’re hosting dinner with some ambassadors from France later.” Dean answers.  
"That should be fun." 

"Indeed. Unfortunately, it involves us actually having to get up first." Dean points out. Fulton groans and runs a hand through his hair. He swings his legs over the side of the bed and gets up, and Dean follows, and they begin their day. 

~

The opening of the tournament goes perfectly, and Fulton sits with hearts in his eyes while Dean gives a small demonstration. The dinner goes well too; Dean only gets a little bit flustered at hearing Fulton speak French. As soon as the delegates leave, however, he drags Fulton into their room as soon as he can. 

Fulton laughs, trying to speak between kisses. 

"You really-mmph-you _really_ like-oh _god_ -when I speak french, don't you?" 

Dean pauses from undoing Fulton's shirt to press another kiss to his neck and say "More than you'll ever know," then removes Fulton's shirt in one smooth move. Fulton pauses them long enough to stumble over to the bed, and there they stay for the rest of the night. 

~

The next morning, Fulton wakes up earlier than usual, and decides to walk out onto the balcony. He sits, and he watches the sun rise, and he contemplates. He contemplates his luck and his gratitude and how _fucking_ much he loves his husband. 

He starts to think about what his life would be if he'd never met Dean or if Charlie had never told him about the contest. He'd probably be stuck in the same old dead-end job, taking abuse from customers and his boss alike. He'd either be sleeping on the streets or still at his parent's, taking even more abuse from his dad and having to watch his mom constantly be drunk out of her mind. Maybe if he had some stroke of luck he'd be lodging with his sister, or maybe he found a place for cheap enough. 

He hears the door open behind him and he startles slightly, but then Dean places a kiss on the top of his head and hands him a cup of coffee, which he accepts gladly, and he relaxes back into the chair. 

"What're you doing up so early?" Dean asks, taking a seat next to Fulton. 

"Just...I don't know. Thinking." Fulton responds. 

"Oh yeah? About what?" 

"What my life would be like if I never met you."

"Oh. What would it be like, do you think?" 

"Pretty terrible, to be honest." Fulton responds dryly. 

Dean huffs out a laugh and reaches out to take Fulton's hand. He gives it a soft squeeze and smiles, and Fulton forgets if he was ever worrying about anything. 

"I love you, you know." 

"I love you too." 

They sit there together, hand in hand, watching the sun rise on a new day and they know that everything is going to turn out alright.


End file.
